


Spock's Off Day (Or 5 times Mr. Spock was distracted by his Captain, and 1 time it was the other way around)

by artemyspyke



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Collaboration, Crack, Humor, M/M, POV Alternating, Possibly OOC, Romance, a sprinkle of angst, nobody cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemyspyke/pseuds/artemyspyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though it starts normally, Commander Spock's day goes from bad to worse in a series of increasing ridiculous accidents that all seem to revolve around one gold-clad crewmember.  While Spock can't help being distracted, the rest of the crew is forced to wonder just how oblivious two people can be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spock's Off Day (Or 5 times Mr. Spock was distracted by his Captain, and 1 time it was the other way around)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a collaboration with my friend Lauren, because we marathoned the Star Trek 2009 video game and beat it after 9.5 hours. That being said, it planted all sorts of fun headcanons and plot bunnies into our heads, which is what landed us here.
> 
> Because this is a collab, we took turns writing chapters back and forth, which means the style of writing will vary occasionally. As for due credit, Lauren wrote most of the following scenes: i, iii, iv, and the +1; I wrote most of: ii, v, and all of vii. Plus there are bits where we edited each other's, so again, changing styles. 
> 
> Anyway, we hope you enjoy this, because it came to us in a puff of crack and 2AM inspiration. 
> 
> Not to be taken seriously.

i.

When Spock awoke at precisely 0700, everything seemed normal. He got out of bed and did his typical morning routine, then set out for the Mess Hall. Nothing hinted at how the day would turn out.

Being an early riser, the Mess Hall was for the most part empty, with only some stragglers from Gamma shift to occupy the tables. Spock moved to the nearest replicator and entered the code for his usual breakfast. Taking the tray and its contents, he went to find an unoccupied table when the cafeteria door slid open and Jim Kirk walked in, unusually early. As they passed, he flashed Spock a smile that caused an odd fuzzy feeling to tingle in his fingers and warm his face. Jim didn’t seem to notice the effect that his action had, and continued on his way to the replicators. Spock watch his Captain as he passed, unfortunately failing to notice his foot placement at the same time. A brief sharp pain sparked and shot from his pinky toe up his leg. He inhaled in surprise, lifting one foot while trying to shake off the pain, only to collapse undignified into the nearest chair, and set the tray down with a solid thunk.

“Uh, Spock, you alright?” Sulu raised a questioning eyebrow at the slightly ruffled-looking vulcan.

Spock cleared his throat. “Yes, Lieutenant, I am... fine,” he said, intently turning to his breakfast to hide his embarrassment. He knew that it was illogical to be having the emotions he did at that moment, but he was finding it infuriatingly hard to repress them.

“If you say so,” Sulu replied with a shrug, returning to his own meal with only one last curious glance at his commander. As the two sat there eating, Jim passed by with a look in their direction.

* * *

 ii.

Later that morning, Spock found himself in the Rec Room, engaged in a 3-D chess match with Pavel Chekov.

“I believe it is your move, Ensign,” he said, capturing an enemy rook. Chekov frowned, and made a neutral move with a pawn. So far, Spock was winning, but the effort on Pavel’s end made the game gratifying nonetheless. Spock absently heard the swish of the rec room doors as he pondered what piece of his opponent’s to take next.

A knight on offense was hovering in his grasp when he heard a cheery, “Hey, Spock!” come from his left. He looked up to see the Captain standing sunnily nearby with a hand raised in greeting. Spock paused, thoroughly disrupted. Then Jim turned and engaged a security officer in conversation.

*

Sitting opposite him, Pavel watched his commanding officer lose interest in the game completely in a matter of seconds. Spock sat with a black knight clutched in his hand, hovering in place over the chessboard, while he tried to look nonchalant about staring. Pavel smiled. Then Spock lowered his hand, and missed the board completely.

If he hadn’t been staring right at it when it happened, Pavel would have thought that he imagined it. But Spock did it again- raised his hand and lowered it into thin air. The black knight was a good five inches from its target, and it definitely wasn’t getting there anytime soon. Spock continued to blankly stab the air around the board, until Pavel choked off a laugh, at which point Spock’s arm autocorrected directly into the game board, knocking over half of a level. He sat completely still for a long time. His king, which had wobbled for several seconds, finally tipped over with a click.

“Is that a forfeit?” Pavel asked.

Spock hesitated for a second, then shoved himself away from the table. He got up and marched stiffly out of the Rec Room.

Pavel turned to a young woman sitting by him, who had been watching the game with mild interest. “That is forfeit,” he grinned.

* * *

iii.

After his quick lunch, Spock made his way to the Officer’s Lounge to meet Uhura. As he arrived, he spotted the lieutenant sitting on a modern gray couch with Nurse Chapel. The two were chatting and laughing and, as he walked over, they both turned to him.

“Spock,” Uhura smiled. “Glad you could make it. You know Christine, I believe?”

“Yes, Nurse Chapel and I are well acquainted,” Spock responded, nodding in greeting to the other woman.

Spock was just about to sit down when the door swished open revealing Jim. The captain glanced around, his eyes resting on Spock for a second, then he turned to another crew member to begin a conversation.

“Oh, Spock careful that’s--!”

Spock gave a blatant yelp of surprise as the chair that he had sat in tilted back alarmingly. His hands and legs flailed for a few moments as he attempted to right himself before he realized that he actually was not falling. Limbs snapping back into place, Spock sat up straight.

“--the tilty one,” Uhura finished. Both she and Nurse Chapel looked at Spock quizzically. “But you knew that,” she said, and eyebrow raised.

“I must have just forgotten,” Spock responded, voice masterfully calm. Chapel seemed to accept the answer where as Uhura still looked disbelieving, but she decided not to question it.

“Well, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am fine,” Spock responded. “Now if you will excuse me, I apologize, but I have some duties to attend to.”

* * *

 iv.

“Anyways, I’m glad you could meet me down here.” Jim said, as he and Spock walked side-by-side through the shuttlebay. Preparations for an away mission were underway, but Jim’s call didn’t specify one way or another what he wanted.

“Of course, Captain. It is my duty.”

“Well,” Jim said, waving a hand dismissively. “Not really right now, but whatever. And call me Jim; this isn’t business.” Spock watched his captain’s blue eyes change with the overhead lights. They were just rounding a corner to find Mr. Scott at his station, when Jim’s face changed.

“Hey, Spock...?”

“Yes, Capt--?”

“Spock!”

The vulcan turned just in time to collide bodily with a metal pole. His face hit first, nose and eye socket cracking viciously against the metal. The sound rang clearly throughout the shuttlebay. There was completely stillness for a moment, as Spock reeled backwards, face tilted up. He gingerly felt his nose with his fingertips. He looked down.

Then everything was a flurry of movement as gravity unleashed a river of blood down his front and Jim leapt into motion.

“Holy crap! Spock, are you okay? Jesus! _Scotty!_ ”

The red-clad engineer came running. “I heard th’ commotion, wha’- _what in the blazes_? He’s- you’re bleedin’ all over m’ ship!” he cried. Someone thrust a rag into Spock’s free hand, and he quickly pressed it to his nose.

“What happened?” Jim demanded. Spock look at him.

“I collided with a pole, Captain.”

Jim sputtered, “I can see that, thanks! _Why?_ You should go to medbay. In fact, I order you. That is an _order_.” Jim rubbed a hand through his hair. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I assure you, Captain, it was not on purpose.”

Jim sighed. “Alright, I’m gonna take you up to medbay. Scotty, I’ll... come back later,” he said to the flustered scotsman. “C’mon Spock,” he turned back to his first officer, absentmindedly putting a hand on Spock’s shoulder, and leading him out of the shuttle bay.

* * *

 v.

The doors to medbay swished open before the two men as they walked up. Inside, nurses and doctors rushed around on everyday business. McCoy glanced up as they walked in.

“Good God man, what happen to you?” he exclaimed, moving over to where Jim stood by Spock who was sitting on a bed, clutching his nose.

“Well, uh, he ran into a pole,” Jim said. Spock made a noise in agreement.

It took all of McCoy’s willpower to not laugh at that mental picture. He cleared his throat instead, and shook his head to try and dislodge the image. “Alright, well, let’s have a look.” McCoy gestured for Spock to remove the hand from his face. His eyes widened in surprise at the slight swelling and bruising around Spock’s right eye, the green stain on his uniform, and the tissue crammed up his nostril.

“It takes a lot of force to cause a vulcan to bruise,” he said. “Whad’ya do? Punch the pole with your face?”

Spock raised an eyebrow, then winced with the pain that the action caused. “I assure you, Doctor, I am fine.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say,” he shrugged. “But I’m going to keep you in medbay where I can monitor you for a bit.” The doctor turned to Jim. “Don’t you have something to get back to?”

“Ah, yes, that I do,” Jim said, snapping back into the conversation and turning his gaze from Spock to McCoy. “I’ll, uh, see you around, Spock,” he said with a wave and a grin as he left the medbay. McCoy huffed, and faced the biobed  where Spock stood.

“You’re off-shift, right?” he asked appraisingly. Spock nodded once. “Good, then you stay. Can’t have you collapsing from a concussion or something while I’m not around. Jim’d kill me if you died. So, while you’re free, I need some help.” Spock blinked.

“Please, elaborate, Doctor.”

“Just load these hypos. You’re a vulcan prodigy with too many degrees to your name; I trust you can handle it.” He gestured to a tray table a few feet away. They descended into silence as McCoy headed for his office and Spock turned to the table of unloaded hypos.

*

Twenty minutes later, Spock had just gotten in a rhythm of loading them when he heard the doors to the bay swish open. Pausing, he glanced up and was surprised to see Jim back in medbay. Spock wondered if perhaps the captain had come to check on him, but he brushed that thought off as absurd and illogical as Jim turned into McCoy’s office.

“Ah, Jim, I have the supplies ready for the away mission,” Spock could hear McCoy say before the door to the office closed.

Spock continued to look at the door for a split second before returning to his work. A slight sting in his hand caused him to look down in surprise. Not only had he completely missed the vial containing the sedative that he was loading the hypos with, but he was holding one that was already filled up.

*

From inside McCoy’s office, Jim heard a loud thump followed by a female shriek. Both officers leapt to their feet and raced out into the main bay area. Jim was the first to notice Spock crumpled on the floor by the table surrounded by startled nurses. He ran over to Spock, dropping to his knees and rolling the vulcan over.

“Bones, what the hell happened? I thought you said he was fine!” Jim exclaimed, blue eyes full of worry. “You said he was fine!” he repeated, more accusing this time.

“And he was!” McCoy exclaimed. “I don’t know why--” he paused. “Oh, shit.” McCoy crouched down beside Jim and plucked something out of Spock’s hand. “Here’s why,” the doctor said, holding up the hypo needle previously embedded in the vulcan’s hand. “He’s full of enough sedatives to knock out a horse.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Spock would never be that careless.”

“Well, everyone has those off days,” McCoy said with a shrug. “C’mon, let’s wake this hobgoblin up,” he said with a sigh, positioning Spock’s unconscious form into a sitting position. “You’re gonna have to hold him up,” the doctor pointed out as the vulcan started to fall to the side. Jim grabbed him and held him straight as McCoy retrieved and administered a hypo to wake Spock up.

*

Colors began to slowly bleed into Spock vision as he surfaced from his sudden, heavily sedated nap.

“Spock... Spock... Spock...,” His name seemed to bounce around his head like an empty cavern. As he became more conscious, Spock grew  aware of a slight pressure on his shoulders. It was...comforting. “Spock, can you hear me, buddy?”

“Jim, I wouldn’t do that...”

Spock felt a hand grab his, and to his surprise, he was suddenly awake and standing. “C-Captain,” he said, stammering his greeting. “When did you come back?”

“Just before you tranquilized yourself,” McCoy answered with a smirk, then turned to the captain. “Jim, don’t you have an away mission to get ready for?”

“That I do,” he responded, then turned to Spock. “Will you be okay enough to accompany me on this mission?”

“Yes Captain, I am fine. I will meet you at the transporter,” Spock replied. Jim left and he turned to McCoy, “I apologized for the trouble I have caused you.” He gave the doctor a vulcan salute, then followed his captain out the door before McCoy could say anything. And McCoy wanted to say a lot.

* * *

  +1

“Captain, I’m so glad that the Federation teaches its officers manners,” chuckled the councilor, taking a sip from his wine glass. Jim grinned congenially.

“I’m just glad that your people are so open to the ideas we’ve got for improving the trade agreement,” he replied. The away mission had been underway for several hours now, ending in a banquet thrown by the native diplomats. The landing party lined both sides of a tremendous table, topped with every course that a meal could contain. The room itself was long and dipped in gold, including the table, chairs, and cutlery. Jim sat to the right of the High Councilor, who was situated at the head of the table, facing the large double doors that besides the hidden servants doors, which were the only entrance into the dining hall. Spock sat next to Jim and had been rather silent for most of the meal, eating small bites of his food more out of politeness than appetite.

As Jim and the Head Councilor continued to talk, Spock’s attention was diverted sharply from listening to his captain’s conversation to a suspicious noise outside the hall. Glancing around the table, no one seemed to have heard. Then it sounded again, this time a bit louder, as though it was getting closer.

“Captain,” he murmured, trying to get Jim’s attention. “Something is not right.”

Jim excused himself from the conversation with the councilor. “What is it Spock?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“There is something outside the dining hall, and it grows near. From the sound of it, I would suspect--,” Spock didn’t get to finish his sentence because at that moment, the big double doors swung open and dark-blue clad figures swarmed in to the hall accompanied by laser fire. Before anyone could register what was happening, a shot came hurtling through the air, striking the High Councilor right in the head. The figure crumpled to the floor.

“Everyone take cover!” Jim roared, grabbing his phaser from inside his dress jacket as shots rang out through the hall. The other councilmen had scrambled to get under the long table while the away team all drew their phasers. The Enterprise crew began to return the fire, managing to stun quite a few of the blue clad men.

“Hey Scotty!” Jim yelled into his communicator. “Things are getting hairy down here! We need back-up to defend the Council!”

“On it, Captain!” came the instant reply..

Spock was using one of the heavy, high-backed chairs as cover, appearing every few seconds to drop an intruder or two. The away team itself was managing to keep the men at bay for the moment, but more and more were streaming into the hall.

“Mr. Scott,” Spock said into his communicator, “Beam down the security teams behind the intruders immediately. That way they will have to fight us on both ends.” He stepped out from behind the chair and shot into the mass of dark blue. Four bodies fell.

*

Jim wasn’t so lucky with his shots. He stepped out from behind his chair and aimed at one of the figures, only for his phaser to click.Overheated. “Damnit!” he swore, smacking the weapon against his palm as though that would help. What he failed to notice was that his previous target had its own weapon trained on him.

“Jim!” Spock yelled in warning to his captain. Jim looked up just in time to throw himself to the ground to avoid the shot. He glanced up at Spock from the floor, shooting him a relieved smile, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light and knew instinctively where it was headed.

“ _Spock!_ ” he bellowed, leaping to his feet and throwing himself at the vulcan. They collided bodily, sending both on a crash course with the floor. Just before they hit the ground, Jim, feeling a jolt and a searing pain in his abdomen, was flung off Spock as if by an invisible force. He sailed several feet before rolling solidly against one high-backed chair and falling limp.

*

“ _Jim!”_   Spock scrambled over to his unconscious captain, grabbing him and dragging him to safety behind the table. He carefully ran his fingers along the side of Jim’s skull, trying to assess the damage. When he touched the back of Jim’s head, it felt warmly wet, and his fingers came back covered in viscous blood. “Scotty, two to beam up into sickbay,” he said frantically, disregarding his tone. Spock scooped Jim up as his vision turned white.

* * *

vii.

Quiet footsteps approached the Captain’s chair. Spock looked up from his PADD.

“Commander, can I speak with you?” Uhura asked, hands folded neatly behind her back. Spock closed the report in front of him.

“If you wish,” he replied. Uhura paused.

“Maybe... somewhere else?”

Spock’s eyebrow twitched, but he stood up and followed her off the bridge and into the turbolift. When they were both inside the doors, she pressed a button and the lift froze.

“Lieutenant--” Spock began. Uhura interrupted him.

“Sir, I wanted to see if you were okay. That’s all. This isn’t ship’s business, so if you have to, then you can go. But please, if you would, just tell me what’s wrong.” The words rushed out so fast that Spock snapped his mouth closed. Nyota stood in front of him, hands clenched, looking a fascinating combination of frustrated and worried.

“Lieutenant...”

“This isn’t ship’s business,” she repeated firmly. Spock looked down.

“Nyota, I assure you there is nothing wrong.”

She studied him for a full minute, eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you, but if something was wrong you wouldn’t tell me anyway. So let me ask this: how is Jim?” Her informal use of the name was somewhat surprising.

“Doctor McCoy has informed the crew that the captain will make a full recovery, and that the phaser blast missed all vital organs. Furthermore--”

“Spock,” she cut in again. “How is Jim?” He couldn’t avoid her eyes any more. They were warm when he finally met them, full of concern and honest curiosity.

“I suppose...” he began. “I should check the Captain’s progress myself.” Nyota smiled. She moved forward and put a barely-there hand over where a human heart would be.

“Go ahead. The ship won’t burn without you here Or at least, not right away.” She stepped back and pressed another button on the lift console. They jarred into motion, rising back in the direction of the bridge, and Nyota put a respectful distance between them. When the doors opened, she moved to her station gracefully. She sent a meaningful glance back at him. He met her gaze evenly and shut the doors.

The turbo ride took far too long.

===

“What are you doing here?” McCoy asked when Spock finally reached the medical bay.

“Inquiring after the Captain’s health,” he answered. The room was clean and clinical, rectangular, and with shrouded white biobeds lining the walls. There was one on the far end that contained Jim, but a curtain kept it anonymous.

McCoy, for his part, didn’t actually gripe. “I’m glad. He woke up a few minutes ago, and he’s been whining for you since. Last bed on the left.” Spock left the doctor to his hyposprays. As he approached the right curtain, he heard a voice on the other side.

“All you have to do is call him, Bones, it’s not that hard.”

Spock paused, and then pulled back the cotton drape with two fingers. “There is no need, Captain,” he said, by way of greeting. Jim looked terrible, shrunken from his days in the hospital. His hair was greasy, and there were circles under his eyes, but Spock marveled at how the blue beneath the lashes hadn’t dimmed even slightly.

And when he brightened at the sight of his first officer, familiar heat seeped through vulcan veins.

“You’re okay!” Jim grinned. Spock wanted to smile back. Instead he took a seat on the edge of the bed and folded his hands in his lap.

“If I was in any way incapacitated, I would not be on duty, Sir,” he reminded gently. The Captain poked him lightly in the upper arm.

“Let a guy be worried,” he said. Spock felt a surge of fondness that he didn’t fight. Jim continued, sobering up. “But seriously, I’ve been out of my mind since I came to. Bones lied; it’s been like half an hour. I kept asking after you, but he said you were busy. You’re always busy.” Jim squinted. “When I saw that man aiming for you down there on the planet, I just...” he trailed off, looking tired. “I’m so, so glad you’re okay.” Spock had to swallow.

“It is curious that you are worried after my well being, when you are the one who received a near-fatal phaser blast.”

“Oh, it’s wasn’t nearly fatal,” Jim said, smiling again. “Bones said it didn’t even hit anything important. Not that you would have been so lucky.” Spock’s mouth quirked.

“Regardless, Sir, I must ask... why did you allow yourself to be injured in my stead, when you are a far more valued member of Starfleet...” His voice dropped off at Jim’s sudden expression. “Sir?”

“Don’t say that. Don’t you say that to me,” Jim ordered, eyes narrowed and so different from a moment before that it left Spock reeling. “I would risk my life for any one of the people on this ship. Understand? You especially. It’s not about rank. It’s about doing what’s right. And I couldn’t live if I knew you died when I could have stopped it. So yeah, I took a bullet for you. Cliched, right? I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” His voice quieted, and he turned his face to the side. Spock could hardly find words beneath the sudden turmoil of his own emotions.

“Captain...”

“It’s Jim! For God’s sake.” Spock looked down at his hands.

“Jim... I feel the same.”

Blue eyes drifted back to meet his. “Do you. Well, I don’t think so.” Spock watched him.

“Please, Jim, tell me your thoughts.”

“Can’t you just read them?” It sounded bitter.

Spock hesitated. “Only with physical contact. You know this.”

Jim’s eyes darkened. At once, he pushed himself up on shaky arms.Spock’s eyes widened, and he only had a second before Jim’s warm hand slid deliberately over the back of his own, while a voice breathed in his ear, “Then read them.”

And Spock was lost.

_affection anticipation where is spock? exhaustion it’s too damn early for this why am I here this is stupid hunger coffee there at the table be cool jim! hikaru he’s busy damn--_

_break relief camaraderie let’s play chess! spock spock too busy always busy damn just talk to him trepidation falter no no later--_

_uhura chapel break room damn they beat me! frustration embarrassment come back later jim jim stupid--_

_engineering scotty talk to scotty later not now! spock finally mine possessive mine! tell him fear tell him now before he leaves anxiety watch out confusion Spock! SPOCK! shit shit what the hell--_

_amusement bewilderment worry i can’t believe you did that you’re wonderful stupid Bones bones help him broken nose sympathy help his face incredulity fix it!--_

_curiosity guilt don’t do this its stupid want desire talk to bones bullshit CRASH confusion panic what happened anger you said he was fine fear fix him! comfort touch his hand touch him Spock--_

_hunger satiation delicious beautiful dining hall gold boredom spock too far away! desire dress uniform lust boredom bored BORED what spock? realization panic fear anger take cover! fuck fuck fire! dropping dead bodies death pain graze? fire! silence phaser done dead fear WHERE IS SPOCK? spock? SPOCK! panic fear determination pain so much pain EVERYWHERE PAIN worth it--_

Spock tore away so fast that he nearly dragged the bed with him. Jim looked just as surprised. Emotions warred on his face, and now Spock understood everything so much better, clearer, could read the feelings playing out in front of him like printed words on a page.

“Spock,” Jim said, frayed. The vulcan, heart still hammering in his side and heavy with emotions that weren’t his, simply cowered- for lack of a better word- with his back pressed against the curtain. His face was carefully blank, but he leaned painfully away from the man in the bed.

“Spock,” Jim said, desperate now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I know I didn’t ask first. I’m so sorry. Please, come back. Sit down.” A lump in his throat threatened to choke Spock. Reasonably, he knew that the emotions running up and down his spine in sickly shivers weren’t entirely or even mostly his own. But he was completely unprepared and they invaded every corner of his mind.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jim was saying, like a mantra. He leaned forward on the biobed, beckoning Spock with his body. “ _I’m sorry_.”

“I..” Spock began, finally finding words. “Do not apologize.” Although Jim’s act was intimate and unwarranted, he couldn’t find it within himself to blame the human.

“No, I mean it! I’m really sorry!” Jim’s eyes shined. “I’ve just been trying to talk to you for weeks about this shit that’s coiled up inside me and it doesn’t make any sense to me, but I can never find a time when I have the nerve and you’re not busy, so I just thought that if you could see it for yourself inside my head... I shouldn’t have done that.” One hand covered his eyes. Spock slowly loosened. Jim looked fragile for once. Straightening the blanket back into place, he took his seat on the edge of the bed again.

“Jim,” he murmured. The Captain looked up, blue meeting brown.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I am not. In fact, I have gained an understanding of you that I am sure... would not have occurred any other way.” It came out stiltedly earnest. This earned him a wobbly smile.

“Look at us,” Jim muttered. “I have pain-med-induced teenage girl mood swings, and you’re face is bruised to hell. We make an interesting pair.”

“That we do, Captain.” Something like a comfortable silence settled for a few moments as the captain and commander looked at each other with a new level of understanding. Then Jim asked, “What was with the pole, anyway?” If vulcans blushed, which they emphatically did not, Spock would have.

“I was distracted, Sir.”

“And the chessboard?”

“I endorse my previous statement.”

“And the tranquilizer?” Silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I can’t walk into a room without turning heads. Even vulcan heads, apparently.” Jim grinned again, more genuine than any before. It made Spock feel light headed. He realized then just how close they were leaning towards each other, and it made his mouth go dry. His eyes flickered down to Jim’s parted lips for a moment. When he looked back, the famous blue eyes had darkened to just a ring of teal around deep black pupils.

Then, ever so slowly, Jim leaned forward and their lips met.

_explosion fireworks heat oh god YES finally spock SPOCK affection amazement love love_

_**jim connection jim t’hy’la jim** _

_high disbelieving spock is that you? floating encompassing_

_**it is me jim happiness real happiness jimjimjim** _

Spock’s fingers kissed Jim’s meld points, and their minds curled around each other like vines in the sun. Jim’s fingers tightened in Spock’s hair. Spock held Jim with a hand at his back. They kissed because they could, they were there, they finally understood. It was neutron stars colliding, and the silence of deep space and every atom in between.

When they finally broke apart, it wasn’t truly separating. Jim rested his forehead against Spock’s and they breathed silently into the air between them. The bay around them didn’t exist. Two hands held two others; perfect balance.

“Still distracted?” Jim murmured. Spock opened his eyes slowly.

“Decidedly not,” he replied. Jim huffed a laugh, and kissed Spock again.

“Hey, _hey,_ ” McCoy barked. They broke apart again, Spock straightening and clearing his throat. Jim didn’t let go of his hands.

“What don’t you ruin, Bones?” he asked, voice rough but amused. The doctor looked eternally disgruntled.

“I have to change your meds. And--” he added, eyeing Spock, “--I can’t do it with a sucker on your face.” Jim’s expression twisted.

“You’re messed up, Bones.”

The doctor merely held out a hypospray in preparation. Jim sighed, and looked at Spock meaningfully, stroking one thumb across the back of his hand.

_embarrassment disappointment annoyance god bones ruins all moments apologetic shy_

_**acceptance affection do not worry contentment rest heal i will be back** _

Spock gently pulled away from Jim’s hands, briefly mourning the loss of contact. The good doctor administered the medicine with a characteristically dramatic reaction from Jim, who clapped a hand over the injection sigh with a wail. Pulling the white curtain back, Spock slipped from the biobed, and just as quietly from the sickbay altogether, allowing himself a small smile when he realized that the hall outside was empty. His mind was filled with Jim, in a new light than ever before. Like Jim could emote enough for both of them, Spock felt his personal discomfort be replaced by belonging, like the kind he used to get from his mother. When he thought of her now, no pang of grief beat in his heart; only joy and nostalgia. He thought, on some illogical level, _maybe she will know somehow that I have found happiness_. It was a human notion, but a comforting one nonetheless.

When the turbolift doors opened to take him to the bridge, he was surprised to see Lieutenant Uhura standing on the other side.

“I was just coming to see you!” she exclaimed, smiling broadly. Spock could only assume what he looked like in that moment.

“Will you accompany me to the bridge?” he offered, stepping into the lift. She nodded one, in mock professionalism, and closed the doors. The lift began to whir.

“You know you’re going to have to tell me all about it,” she mused after a minute of silence. Spock blinked.

“I do not know to what you are referring.”

Nyota elbowed him lightly in the side. “That’s crap, and you know it. You’ve been smiling since you got in here.”

Had he? Fascinating.

“Are you thinking about Jim?” she asked slyly. He raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

Distractions, distractions.

  
  
  


 

 


End file.
